


Over and Under my Thoughts

by baskerville



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Flashbacks, M/M, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baskerville/pseuds/baskerville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself having a bit of a flashback...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over and Under my Thoughts

**_Being born a hunter wasn't something he exactly wanted. But that's how he was raised. Kill first, ask questions later. Especially if it included his little brother. "Protect him". That's all he ever heard. No one ever considered that perhaps, he wanted to care for himself. That maybe, for once in his life, he wanted to just worry about his own needs. His wants. But no, he wasn't allowed to do that. He was the eldest, after all. What kind of son would he be if he put himself first?_ **

**_So that's what he did. He lived a life of on-going, and seemingly endless sacrifice. Day, by day passing by, slowly, and drearier than the last. With each setting sun, the inner-demon he was trying to hold back was fighting. It wanted out. It wanted out soon. The boy fought it, of course. Only to the best of his abilities. All was in vein, because one night, the boy let the demon loose… And not only did he pay for his sin. But so did his family…_ **

—-

"Hey, get up.", the small blonde said, gently nudging his younger brother.

"Hn… U-wha…?", the bed-head bearing brunette sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes in a desperate attempt to adjust to the beaming morning sunlight that seemed to fill the room.

"Dad's still out on his job. He called and said he'd be back next Friday ..", the blonde said, turning and heading over towards the table. He was responsible for feeding his brother. Making his way over to the food, he grabbed two bowls, pouring them both some cereal and milk.

The youngest was slowly making his way towards the end of the bed, his feet just barely touching the floor as his feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

"Here. You should probably eat something.", and with that, the eldest turned on a heel, offering the fullest bowl to his younger brother, grinning to himself.

—-

**_"….-ean?! Dean! Dean get up! Dean dude! Wake the Hell up!"_ **

—

It wasn't too long after breakfast, that the eldest had decided to take his little brother out for a walk. Spending all your time in one small, secluded room has the makings of turning someone insane, you know? Grabbing his leather jacket, the eldest slid both arms in, his eyes set on the door.

The small brunette was running around the room, excited, and smiling at first. That is, until he saw the look of heart-wrenching concern on his big brothers' face. Instead of asking what the cause of such a reaction was, the boy simply sat down. His brother was pacing back and for, for quite a bit. It wasn't until roughly 20 minutes later, the elder blonde sighed, almost in defeat. It was as though he'd been arguing with himself the entire. But before the youngest could so much as finish his thought, the blonde youth was headed towards the closet. He opened it, pulling out a large, fatigue colored duffle-bag. He rifled through it for a second, until coming across the very treasure he was searching for.

One, stainless steel, easy-flip butterfly knife, with smooth grip, and finger hooks on the handle, intended to provide extra control.

"Dean!", the brunette said, warning "Dad said you weren't allowed to touch the things in the bag…"

Of course, like older siblings do, he didn't heed his brothers' warning. Twirling the knife in his on one finger, he was grinning a both mischievous, yet victorious smile.

"Who cares? Dad's not here. And I'm the one that's gotta protect ya. So I'll go that however I think I should, Sammy."

—

**_"I swear to God… if you die on me… I'll never fucking forgive you!"_ **

—-

The pitter-patter of small, feet on the crunchy, sun-dried grass, quickly filled the boys ears as they made their way through the grass fields, and towards the park only a few convenient yards away from the motel room.

The young blonde, whom, by now, I would hope you know as Dean, was holding the butterfly knife in the inner pocket of his jacket. Of which, he kept half way zipped, thus making easier access to the weapon, if necessary.

"Hey, Dean?", the little brunette blurted out suddenly, his little legs traveling as fast as he could take them, to keep pace with his brother.

"Yeah?"

"How long are we gonna be out here?"

"We gotta get inside before the sun goes down."

As the eldest sibling responded with this, the youngest tipped his head. It was for as long as he could remember; they were moving from place to place, rarely attended a school on a steady basis, and most of all, almost never. And this means never, exited the confines of their home after the sun set.

Sam, the youngest sibling, would often sit up at night, his eyes desperately scanning the surrounding contorts of the room, in search for any beasts, ghouls or goblins that could be sharing their shadowy bed space. In an attempt to bring himself to a final conclusion, he turned to his older brother, reaching out, grasping his hand, squeezing it gently.

The eldest's head shot up, suddenly at attention. His cheeks were on fire, and heated so much that they looked red as tomatoes. Only side-eyeing his brother, because he dare not face him looking this way, he spoke, in a fake, but equally as curious tone.

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

"…Are there monsters in the dark?"

Eyes widening, and his pulse quickening, the older sibling soon released his youngest brothers hand, his own, quickly returning to his pockets. Where did all these random questions pop from? And why does he always ask them at the weirdest times? With a frustrated sigh, and a very slight eye roll, the blonde turned his sights onto his smaller sibling.

"Yeah.", this serving as a response, the smaller brunette gasped, but was soon cut off by his brother's words once again. "But that's why I'm here, Sammy."

Coming to an abrupt stop, the only thing standing between themselves, and the park, a small, 3 foot gate. It wasn't until they had reached such a distance, that young Sam had truly realized the distance between where they stand, and the motel room door. Quite the far run. If something were to happen…

"That's exactly what I'm thinkin'.", Dean said, smirking as he pointed a confident thumb at himself. "But no worries. I'm with ya Sammy. And nothin' is gonna hurt ya on my watch."

—

**_"God… if there is one... Please.. Please bring him back safe…"_ **

—

One child's attention is one way, swings, jungle gyms, and climbing ropes is where he lost himself. While the other child's attention, watched his brother with the eyes of a hawk. The possibilities of anything,or anyone harming his brother would be thwarted immediately upon the attempt, or happening. If one thing was sure, it was that Dean would never allow Sam to get hurt.

"Look at me!", Sam shouted, as he pulled his entire body up from the ground below the jungle gym, using only his legs. Deans brows perched at the strength the smaller held. But all the same, he smiled, and gave a nod of approval.

It didn't take long. It didn't take long at all. Not long in the least… To notice. They were being watched.

—

**_"Why!? Why did you have to do something so stupid?! Now… I.."_ **

—

"Sam! Get behind me!", the spiky haired sibling shouted, shoving his younger brother behind his back to take cover as he instinctively pulled out, and unleashed the sleek, thin blades of the butterfly knife.

Without hesitation, he glared up, threateningly at the taller, dark figure. He was wearing a hood, so Dean couldn't make out his face. It was definitely an adult, but if it was human, Dean couldn't kill him. His father always told him that it wasn't a hunter's place to decide whether a human dies or not. Only the supernatural beings that plague our planet.

"Only one way to find out…", Dean mumbled under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he took a leap forward, immediately aiming for the face of the hooded figure. The sun would be down soon, he had to get this out of the way before it went dusk. If they were out after the sun set…

Dean was slashing in every which direction, the larger, mysterious form in front of him, just barely dodging each streak of the blade. When he realized that the regular "dash n' slash" technique wasn't working, the eldest took it upon himself to add a little spice to the mix.

With the next slash of the knife, he immediately reached for the holy water, splashing it on the attackers face. When he realized that the Holy Water hadn't a real effect, he rushed with a barrage of knife attacks to keep the larger form at bay just long enough for him to reach for the bag of salt. As his wrist outstretched to send the grainy white powder flying at the man, the form had managed to grab Dean by his wrist, yanking him forward. But Dean was still slashing the butterfly knife like a mad man. The distance between him, and the larger, mysterious attacker at the park, lessened, as did Deans' visibility and sight.

Then it was all **black** …

—-

**_"I don't want to lose you, Dean… I can't live without you…"_ **

—-

Usually, when a sibling hears another sibling cry, they either become extremely annoyed, or concerned. Dean, our young Dean however, is not like most siblings. Everything was black, but his hearing was still there. Just… slightly muffled. As he came to, slowly, the light from the now darkening sky, catching up with his ability to hear, he was greeted with not a worried face, nor overly excited drama, but one, silently weeping Sam, who was sitting only inches from his brothers' body.

Upon taking notice that his sibling was fine, Sam proceeded to quickly cover up his tears, and wipe them away. Alas, it was too late. The eldest had caught wind, and view of his younger crying, and this sent him into a spiraling, violent rage. He immediately grabbed to pull the knife back up, and shot up from his spot, ready to continue fighting. Only to find out that the stranger lay right beside him, and Dean was covered in blood. …The strangers blood.

Sam was shocked, but not as shocked as Dean. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the very knife he had held in his hand, was jammed in the old mans' throat.

The only thing the older sibling did when he discovered this, was- smile.

An eerie, but calm, soothing, almost content smile. Quickly making his way to his feet once again, he yanked the knife from the mans' throat, blood spitting onto the grass below, making it look a dark brown now. Sneering, Dean brought back a strong foot, kicking the lifeless body in the face. Repeatedly. Until the only sounds that were heard, was that of cracking and breaking bones.

Sam, wasn't afraid at first. But what scared him the most, was that, the entire time, while doing this, Dean was… Laughing.

—

**_"I love you.. Don't you dare die on me now.. I love you…."_ **

—

The boys slowly made their way from the park, leaving the now horribly disfigured body in their wake. Sam couldn't stop staring at his brother. Why was he laughing while he was acting like that? Why did he seem to be enjoying himself so much? Shouldn't he be worried, like Sam was, that they just killed a man? …Dean was so… calm about it.

As they entered the motel room once again, the eldest blonde proceeded to peel off his blood stained shirt, and toss it in the trash. Turning to head to take a shower, he was stopped by his brother, whom was standing in the bathroom doorway, holding a small box.

"Hey Dean?"

"Sammy?"

The smaller boy pulled the box into view, holding it out to his brother, a very light smile upon his features.

"Thanks for protecting me back there…"

Dean very cautiously took the box, and opened it. It was necklace. Eyeing it a moment, before finally putting it on, he turned his sights back to his brother, ready to thank him. But Sam merely shook his head and said;

"Happy 14th Birthday, Dean…"

—

**_"WAKE UP! PLEASE, DEAN! IF YOU LOVE ME AT ALL! WAKE UP!"_ **

—

Dean shot up from his dinky motel bed, immediately curling up in pain. His entire chest hurt, and no sooner had he managed to sit up, he fell back onto the bed with a thump. There to greet him back to consciousness was Sam. Whom, looked both relieved, but still worried as hell.

"Dean.. Dude are you okay?", Sam said, ready to practically tackle and suffocate his older brother with his protective tendencies.

"Yeah, Nurse-Lion's Mane. I'm fine.", he said, managing a teasing tone, as he forced himself to sit up completely, holding his chest with gritted teeth.

"Shit… What happened?", he asked, through those same gritted teeth.

Sam just shook his head, and laughed.

"Dude. How could you forget? We were fighting a shapeshifter, and you got shot…Then stabbed." After a moment more of thought, he shrugged, smirking comfortably. "You got trashed by a girl dude."

"That was one strong ass girl then."

"Well, no worries. All you gotta do is rest. I bandaged you up and all while you were out."

Dean couldn't help but grin at his brother, whom got up off of the bed, and headed to the cooler, pulling out two beers.

"And don't worry. I killed the shifter, so it's all good now."

The spikey haired blonde gave a nod of agreement, grinning with sheer delight as he opened his beer bottle. Before taking a sip, Sam leaned his own bottle forward, clinging the two.

"Happy 26th Birthday, Dean.", he managed to voice through a light chuckle, and a smile.

The eldest looked up at his little brother. The person who meant most to him. Whom he would kill for without hesitation. Yet, the only thing he could bring himself to do right now… Was smile. Dean wasn't used to being the one to be rescued, but… He can't say he didn't like it. Actually, it felt nice to know that someone was there for him. That maybe… Just… Maybe. He wasn't completely alone.

—-

**_"….I love you, Sammy."_ **

**_"I love you, Dean…."_ **


End file.
